


Hurricane of My Ghosts

by magicianparrish



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: also playing around with the goddess Melinoe from the Sword of Hades, this is an idea hatched at 1 AM sleepless nights, this is just some Percy angst after the Last Olympian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 06:43:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9589289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicianparrish/pseuds/magicianparrish
Summary: Percy is sometimes haunted by ghosts after the Battle of Manhattan.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know why this is the title...Anyway, I had this idea when my head hit my pillow to sleep at 1 am and it was the reason I couldn’t sleep last night. Also, the song Hurricane from Hamilton came on and helped this. Basically, I’ve always been curious about the character of the goddess Melinoe who was brought in during the Sword of Hades. And the idea of Percy not having any ghosts pre-TLO and then having some after the matter. So just some Percy grief and angst to start my day. 
> 
> This wasn’t beta’d and was typed out in around an hour so take that as you will.

Percy is woken up by the loud crack of thunder outside his window. He sat up in his bed, his breaths coming in heavy from being startled, and from a nightmare that is already fading into the void of memory.

His room is filled with shadows, the only source of light coming from the streets of Manhattan from outside and the flashes of lightning that come and go. The sounds from the street that usually blur into white noise for Percy, were now heightened with the patter of rain hitting his window.

He stretched and rubbed the sleep from his eyes before yanking the blanket off of him. Slowly he put his feet on the ground, met with cold floorboards and an array of clothing and textbooks thrown and left in haste of the day. Underneath his pillow, he feels for the familiar weight of the ballpoint pen that he keeps in case of emergencies from his other life.

A life that has brought him more pain and suffering than happiness. One that he never asked to be a part of, but was thrust into head first. It was like he was thrown into an ocean, and told to swim against the waves and riptides, but hadn’t learned to swim prior. Some days he felt like he was drowning. Even though that would never happen, given his father is the god of the oceans, among other things.

He felt the weight of all the people, his friends, that had sacrificed their lives to fight for him, for his prophecy (even though in the end it wasn’t really all about him) and ultimately, his war. He could hear their cries as they ran headfirst into battle, only to be slain by a monster or by the hands of a fellow demigod. Their bodies left for dead on bridges, or disfigured beyond recognition on the streets of Manhattan, or gone down the river never to be found again.

The shrouds that siblings had to make for their fallen, glittered and shimmered beautifully on the funeral pyres built in the amphitheater at Camp. He had only watched his own funeral a year ago, last summer and he saw the solemn faces of his friends; most of whom were alive at that point. The Battle of the Labyrinth gave Percy his first true taste of war and what it was like to lose friends. It amplified the seriousness of the situation he was thrown into, and the way he was the epicenter to all of it stressed him out. He just wanted a sense of normalcy where he could get it, even if it wasn’t often as he liked.

He didn’t want to be a half-blood.

He rubbed his hands over his face, inhaling as much air as he could into a breath before exhaling slowly and deeply. His hair fell into his face, making him run a hand through it to make it stay back for a moment. He looked over at the alarm clock on his nightstand, and it read: 1:18. It was the middle of the night, the time he usually woke up from nightmares; tonight was no different it seemed.

Percy stood up and walked over to his window. The lights were dim from the streets, and for once there was no cabs or people walking down the streets talking loud while intoxicated with whatever they were drinking or doing. Instead, it was replaced with the howling wind and rain pounding against everything. He tilted his head to see the clouds formed in the sky, they were dark and puffy. They seemed to be moving faster than normal thunderstorms. It was a hurricane.

It wasn’t so unusual for New York to be hit with them occasionally. But the past few years they had been coming in strong and destroying towns and neighborhoods. Even parts of New York City were damaged, such as the Rockaways and Battery Park downtown. Percy knew it was his father; he didn’t understand the gods most of the times. Even though he knew his father was nice at least to him and his mother, he knew he was also known for his temperament and he was also a _god._ Percy didn’t even want to know what got his father’s temper this time. Nor did he really care at this point. He had done his duty to Olympus and the gods, and now he just wanted to leave in peace and go on with life as best he could.

He observed the hurricane from his window. Through the warped vision of his window due to the water, he saw that the little box that held the spring of Moonlace was still standing as if nothing was happening outside, while others were bending and breaking from the wind and water. While many felt the urge of panic during storms like this, he found the noise coming from it relaxing.

Through the cracks of the window, he could feel the chilly wind from the storm and the October air. It had been pretty hot up until this point, and Percy figured after it would start to get cold again, taking fall with it and bringing in winter.

Percy dragged his chair from his desk and brought it over to the windowsill where he was standing. Then he sat down and leaned his head against the wall. He just needed some calm, and he found watching the rain helped. He didn’t know how long he had sat there before he felt the heaviness of sleep come to him.

* * *

All Percy saw at first was darkness. For a moment, he had the thought that maybe this one time, he would have a dreamless sleep. Something that he yearned for these days. But the peace was shattered when he heard laughing. It seemed to come from everywhere, and it sent a chill up Percy’s spine. It sounded familiar, a fog of a memory that was trying to breakthrough.

He spun around to the sound hoping that he could identify who was haunting his dreams this time. Somehow he was able to see who it was. The darkness seemed to fade just a little; enough for him. It was a woman, who reminded him of that villain from the Batman movies; half her face was pale like a vampire, while the other was black and leathery like a mummy unwrapped. Her black hair was flowing behind her like it defied the laws of gravity. Her eyes were black voids that screamed of death. Percy recognized the goddess, Melinoe.

She took a step forward in the void, and she smiled at him. Her teeth were sharpened like sharks and razor like. It was malicious and made Percy’s breath still.

“Perseus Jackson, my how things have changed in a year,” she purred at him.

Her voice was like nails on a chalkboard. Percy winced as she walked around her, in the golden dress and shawl she wore. It was exactly like the last time he saw her in the Underworld on his quest to save Hades’ sword.

“Melinoe,” he managed to breathe out.

“So you do remember me. How nice of you, hero, she sneered.

She was behind Percy, and he couldn’t see her. He tried to move but realized that she probably had some sort of paralysis spell on him. Goddesses tended to do that when they wanted your attention and control of the situation. It still unnerved him every time it happened, though. He didn’t like not having control over his own body.

He felt a cool hand brush against his face, her sharp nails trailing down his cheek. Not hard enough to leave a cut, but enough force to chill Percy to the bone. He wished this wasn’t a nightmare so he could close his eyes and get the hell out of here.

“If I remember correctly, the last time we met you didn’t have any ghosts. Unlike your two companions. I see that has changed.”

Suddenly she was in front of him again, but it wasn’t her. In her place was a tall man, his skin dark brown which almost blended in with the darkness around them. He was wearing a Camp tank top with the sleeves ripped and a pair of leather gloves on his hands. Goggles were placed over his shaven head. And he looked burned up.

“Beckendorf,” Percy gasped.

The son of Hephaestus’ face formed into a snarl. A facial expression Percy had never seen on his face when he was alive. He now saw that the burn marks were from the explosion on the Princess Andromeda.

“That’s all you have to say to me, after all, you’ve done?” his gruff voice demanded.

“Beck-” Percy started.

“You are the reason why I’m dead. My body left for dead somewhere in the sea to never be found again. Why I wasn’t able to live my life and continue to go to college. This is your fault.”

Percy had this argument with himself plenty of nights. He tried to justify it to himself that Beckendorf sacrificed himself for the greater good, he had even seen it for himself. He made Percy leave. But he couldn’t help the guilt sometimes. Why did everyone have to sacrifice so much just to protect him? Most days he feels he doesn’t deserve to be hailed as the hero of Olympus when so many others had died for him.

Beckendorf’s form morphed into another. It was a girl, who couldn’t be more than fourteen with light brown hair that looked like it was slashed off with a sword. A large cut went across her abdomen, staining the shirt with blood and leaving a gap in cloth. Her blue eyes had a fire in them. Percy knew who she was: a demigod who had fought for Kronos. In the heat of the battle, he had killed her. A nameless girl who he had killed.

“You think you’re a hero when in reality you are a murderer, Percy Jackson!” she screeched.

“I’m sorry, I-” he said trying to apologize. He choked when he realized tears were streaming out of his eyes.

He had tried to hard not to kill any other demigods who had fought on the opposing side. But the curse of Achilles made him crazed, and in a battle scenario, it had happened. And the girl in front of him was a nameless victim.

“Sorry will never cut it. All of those who had perished by your sword or your friends, now walk the earth as ghosts.”

Percy fell to his knees clutching his head with his hands. He tried to breathe properly again, but he felt like he was suffocating. He was a killer, he was no better than any of the bad guys or monsters.

“I warned you, Percy Jackson, that one day you’d have many ghosts. And I told you you’d remember me. It will only grow,” she taunted with a haunting laugh before leaving Percy.

* * *

He stood up straight, in his chair taking in a deep breath trying to calm himself back down again. There was a painful cramp in his neck from the position he had been sleeping in. As he went to rub his eyes of sleep, he felt the slickness of tear tracks running down his cheeks and hastily wiped them. He sniffled and wiped his nose from the tears that had made their way there too. He was still gasping erratically, and he knew then that he had been hysterically sobbing both in the dream and outside as well.

Outside, it was still gray. The rain was still pounding away at the streets and window, but it was much lighter than it was when he had fallen asleep again. A soft knock came on his door before it opened up.

“Percy, sweetheart, good news,” his mother’s soft voice came, “the school just called, they canceled classes due to flooding and the storm.”

He turned towards her, with a small smile on his face. A day off from school was a rarity; usually, hell would have to freeze over first before they canceled it. She saw him sitting on the chair and stepped inside with worry pinched on her face.

She was still wearing plaid pajama pants and a faded Led Zeppelin concert t-shirt. Her brown hair was messily stacked on top of her head. Her blue eyes looked at Percy.

“Are you alright?” she asked with genuine concern only a mother could have.  

For a split second, he thought of lying. But then he knew that he could never lie to his mother about anything. He let out a sigh and shook his head. He stood up from where he was and went into a gripping hug. Even though he was much taller than she was, he felt like a little kid all over again.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she whispered.

Percy let out a little sniff, still recovering from his sobbing fit. He let go of the hug and wiped his eyes and nose again.

“If we make chocolate chip pancakes today,” he offered knowing that they were a rarity of the house.

A kind smile broke out on her face and she rubbed his cheek, which had started to stubble. With a wink, she said: “I’ll even add marshmallows to the hot chocolate.”

He let out a little laugh. “Deal.”

The feeling of heaviness still weighed on him, though. He wasn’t sure that would ever go away.      

**Author's Note:**

> And so that's that. Just a little idea that I came up with last night and decided to write it before I forgot. Hope I did Percy justice... thanks for reading!


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